


When The Day Met The Night

by Aruse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Character Death, Choking, Dean and Lucifer are 18 and seniors, Don't do what they do, Drug Use, Got It?, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Maybe??? Kinda???, Multichapter, Sam is 14 and a freshman, Seniors should not be in relationships with freshmen, Sexuality Confusion, Slow Burn, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aruse/pseuds/Aruse
Summary: Sam was, by all accounts, annoyed with his current situation. An absent mechanic of a father, an older brother trying his best to do the right thing, and a new school full of people who hated his guts... The last thing he needed in his life was an eighteen year old gorehound with an obsession for whiskey and heroin, but wasn't it just Sam's luck that his brother had hired that same carnography loving asshole to watch Sam's back.High school!AU in which Sam is 14 and Dean is 18, as well as Lucifer. Dean hires Lucifer to be Sam's 'body guard' so to speak, and things get a little unprofessional as time goes on. Like it says in the tags, relationships between 18-year-olds and 14-year-olds are not okay, but this is a work of fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I'll try to update this story every week to two weeks, depending on how busy I am. The tags will change as chapters are added, and more characters will be added, and the warnings will change eventually. Individual warnings for some chapters will be added at the beginning of those chapters. Hope you enjoy, and remember, comments and likes are love!

Sam didn’t hate school, but when he was being dragged around by a drunk mechanic to a new town every month, the lines between toleration and understanding became blurred. Every time they moved he had to start school somewhere new, which meant he had to make new friends, come up with new lies for why they moved, and try not to get too attached to anyone.

 

Like last week, for example, Sam was forced to move for the third time in two months. Again, he didn’t hate school.

 

He hated moving.

 

The Winchesters didn’t move like average families, because, face it, they weren’t average. They didn’t have boxes full of family portraits and Sam and Dean’s art projects from over the years. John didn’t call a cross-country moving service or rent a U-Haul. He yelled up the stairs at 11:30 at night telling his kids to ‘get their crap and haul ass out to the car before I leave without you!’

 

Dean would, like usual, jump out of bed and stuff his clothes into his duffle, sling it over his shoulder, and walk downstairs and out to the car with time to kill. Sam, on the other hand, would roll out of bed, pull on some jeans and a sweatshirt, and sigh as he folded his clothes and put them in his duffle. Carefully, he’d pull the picture from under his pillow and wrap it in the dumb bandana Dean had given him for his eleventh birthday.

 

John and Dean would be waiting in the Impala. John would scold Sam for wasting time while Dean threw Sam an apologetic glance and a shrug of his shoulders. Sam would roll his eyes. He knew Dean cared, but he’d told Dean he hated this lifestyle, and Dean has yet to speak with their father about it. Dean is a good mother/father/brother, Sam can’t deny that, but sometimes what he does, or doesn’t do really, just isn’t enough.

 

John would rev the engine and tear out of the small town, on to the next.

 

\--

 

“I hate this place,” Sam said, getting in the car after school. He dumped his backpack at his feet and rolled down the window.

 

“Come on,” Dean said as he pulled out of the school parking lot. “This place ain’t so bad. I hear they got a kickass soccer team. I’m sure they'd give anything to get you on it, man.”

 

Sam scoffed and shook his head. He folded his arms over his chest, staring out the window, wishing that today hadn’t happened.

 

“It’s these people, Dean. Half of them drool over me because they need one more person to up the number of groupies in their clique. The other half look at me like they want me dead, or act like I’m not there... I guess I wish I wasn’t here either.”

 

“Sammy,” Dean warned.

 

“I’m serious, Dean!” Sam turned in his seat to face Dean. “I made friends at our last school. I don’t know a single person here and I’m pretty sure some of them do want me dead. You should see how people in your grade look at me, how they look at all Freshman, for that matter.”

 

“Seniors are pricks, Sam, you know that. Stay out of their way, and they won’t beat you to a pulp behind the bleachers.”

 

“That’s not funny.”

 

“Wasn’t meant to be. You should've seen what Seniors did to Freshman when I was your age.” Dean visibly shivered, hands tightening around the steering wheel. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to staring out the window. It was late April, but the weather had been unseasonably warm, and most of the windows in the school had been opened. Younger kids played in their yards while their parents watched them, throwing toys and stick for their dogs and drawing with chalk as Sam and Dean drove by.

 

Sam closed his eyes and a warm breeze blew into the car. The sun warmed the inside of the Impala, not uncomfortably, but enough that Sam contemplated wearing basketball shorts the next day instead of his usual jeans.

 

Dean pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park and killed the engine. Sam got out of the car, shouldering his backpack and walked up the front steps, Dean following.

 

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Dean asked Sam as he went to the fridge once they were inside. Sam shrugged.

 

“Whatever there is,” Sam said dryly. He knew that there was plenty to eat for once, but he didn’t care, wasn’t even hungry. “Make what you want.”

 

Dean frowned, watching Sam as he sat down and got out his homework.

 

“You okay?”

 

Sam sighed, briefly closing his eyes, opening them to stare at Dean.

 

“Were you present for the conversation in the car, or did I just get a case of ten minute heat stroke and hallucinate the whole thing? Seriously, Dean, I’m asking.”

 

“Oh, shut up, bitch.” Dean cracked a soda, grabbing one for Sam. “I told you to get over this moving thing. You know that this is how we live, and neither of us can do anything about it.” He sat down next to Sam, handing him the soda. Sam took it and opened it, not drinking any. He started his homework.

 

By the time Sam finished his homework Dean had spaghetti dished up into two bowls and was setting the table. He set one bowl in front of Sam and the other at his seat. He grabbed another soda and sat down next to Sam. Dean began to eat immediately. Sam picked at his food with his fork, still not interested in eating. Dean watched as Sam pretty much sulked.

 

“Man, you gotta tell me what’s up. This has to be about more than just moving,” Dean said, grabbing a napkin to wipe off his mouth and hands. He set it down and directed his full attention to Sam. Sam sighed and sat back.

 

“Today we learned about sexuality and genders and stuff in fifth period. The school guidance counselor came in and talked to us about different gender identities and sexual orientations.” Sam looked up at Dean to see if he was following. Dean nodded for him to continue. “It wasn’t as bad as health class, sure, but it was very... informing,” Sam said shyly. He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Some older students came in and talked to us about the effects that coming out has on someone when they're in high school.”

 

Sam could tell his face was red, and he was thankful Dean hadn’t stopped him yet. He was sure if Dean had, he wouldn’t be able to continue.

 

“I learned a lot, but I’m still confused about some of it.” Sam looked at Dean and Dean tilted his head.

 

“What are you confused about? Like, there’s not gonna be a test on it, is there?”

 

“No, no test. I’m just confused about...” Sam sighed. He couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. “Me.” Dean looked down momentarily, confused. His brows furrowed as he pieced it together. He did the math, finally understanding Sam.

 

“Oh,” Dean said, looking up at Sam, who was now back to staring at his own food. “Like, are you just confused about the... sexuality part, or the... gender part.” Dean spoke as if he would start an avalanche with just one word, like one syllable said too quickly would cut Sam. He was quiet, bending his neck to try and meet Sam’s eyes.

 

Sam shrugged.

 

“I think just the sexuality part, but I don’t know. Everything just feels... weird. I know I like girls, I’ve always known that, but now I feel something else. I feel like maybe being with a guy wouldn’t be so bad.”

 

Dean opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to comfort Sam. Usually Dean could bandage Sam’s scrape or help him study for a test. But now, he didn’t know what to do. Dean had always been with girls. He wasn’t against guys who liked guys, he’d just never felt the same about men as he had with women.

 

“I think I’m good with the gender thing,” Sam said quietly. He dropped his hands back to his lap. Dean nodded, standing up and grabbed his bowl and Sam’s, taking them to the sink and dumping their contents. He walked back over to Sam and put his hand on his shoulder.

 

“Stand up,” Dean said. Sam looked up at him in confusion, but stood up.

 

“What are you-” Sam was cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tight to his chest.

 

“You’re my brother, and I love you. There’s nothing you can do, say, or be that’s gonna change that.” Sam slowly placed his arms around Dean’s waist, hugging him back.

 

“Thank you,” Sam said with tears in his eyes. “Thank you so much, Dean.” Dean smiled giving Sam one last tight hug before letting him go and stepping back. Sam stepped back, wiping his eyes.

 

“Oh, don’t cry,” Dean said with a smile, lightly punching Sam’s shoulder. Sam sniffed and smiled at Dean. He gathered his things in his backpack and headed for the stairs.

 

“Oh, and Dean,” Sam said before he went up, face serious. “Don’t tell dad.”

 

“I won’t,” Dean said sternly. “I promise.” Sam nodded at him and turned and went upstairs.

 

Sam threw his bag on the floor next to his bed, lifting his pillow and took the picture out from under it.

 

“Hey, mom,” he said quietly. “I told Dean. He’s cool with it.” Sam smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So there is some bullying and violence in this chapter just so you're aware, but nothing too graphic I don't think. Comments and likes are love!

“Hey, Winchester!” Azazel yelled.

 

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Castiel said under his breath, grabbing Sam’s arm and pulling him to their next class. Castiel was one of the only people at this school to see him as a friend instead of a piece of meat, and Sam was grateful for that.

 

“He knows, Cas, he has to,” Sam said, face dull and eyes tired. He’d only been out two days, but he was sure someone told someone and now everyone knew he was gay. Well, bisexual, but everyone except Cas and Dean would think that meant he’s gay, giving them more than enough reason to taunt him.

 

“No one but me and your brother know, Sam. That’s the way it’s going to stay until you want to tell people.” Castiel let go of Sam’s arm when they walked into third period. Sam took his seat, Cas on one side and Charlie Bradbury on the other.

 

Sam liked Charlie, as a friend of course, her being a lesbian. Sam found her entertaining, but not in the same way Gabriel Novak was. Charlie was mellower and more PG rated with her humor, while Gabriel had once gone as far as reciting lines from a bad porno when he was supposed to be reading aloud from  _ Hamlet _ . Their English teacher still had a grudge against him.

 

Charlie sat down, throwing her bag in the empty seat on the other side of her.

 

“Hey,” Sam said. Charlie looked up and smiled.

 

“Hi,” she replied. That was the extent of their conversation for the rest of the hour.

 

When the bell finally rang, Sam headed to the door with Castiel, intending to go to his locker to pick up his Biology textbook. Instead, Sam was violently pulled away from Cas and thrown against a locker. His head hit the metal and he gasped, dropping his books. Instinct kicked in and Sam lowered his head and put his hands in front of him.

 

A knee collided with Sam’s stomach, causing him to grab his middle and keel over. Sam tried to see who was attacking him, but a fist connected with his jaw, pain blooming under his skin. Falling to his knees, Sam held his hand over his head as blow after blow came from the assailant.

 

“Hey!” Sam heard someone yell. It sounded like an adult, and Sam nearly laughed with relief.

 

The kicking stopped and a hand grabbed Sam’s shoulder, pulling him to his feet. He saw Azazel and Alistair being led toward the principal's office by Mr. Lafitte, the gym teacher.

 

“You alright?” Sam turned to his left, his eyes meeting Mr. Shurley's. Sam nodded quickly, pulling away from his teacher’s hands.

 

“I’m fine.” Sam reached up and gingerly touched his jaw where, Sam guessed, Azazel had hit him. There wasn’t any blood, but it hurt like a bitch. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

 

“Okay,” Mr. Shurley said. “But if at any time you don’t feel like finishing the day, you can go to the office and they’ll send you home, alright?”

 

Sam saw the concern behind the teacher’s eyes and nodded. Mr. Shurley had kids in school, which made him both one of the best and worst teachers, in Sam’s opinion. He understood when things didn’t go well, like know, but he sure as hell wouldn’t take anyone’s bullshit. Mr. Shurley had proved that by failing his son and making an example out of him in front of the entire school at the assembly they had to cover the topic when he was caught with alcohol.

 

“I will. Thank you.” Mr. Shurley nodded and turned to walk to his class. Sam picked up his books and walked to Biology. He knew he’d have a bruise by fifth hour, and by the end of the day he’d be sore all over.

 

\--

 

“I swear, Sammy, if they even  _ think _ about touching you again-”

 

“They got suspended, Dean. They won’t be at school at all next week.

 

Dean paced across the room, hands clenching and unclenching. He heaved breaths, face red with anger. Sam had gotten in the car after school, trying and failing to hide the bruise on his face and the ones he knew were on his arm. He regretted wearing a T-shirt to school. When Dean saw the bruises he almost crashed the car into the one in front of them. Sam wouldn’t tell him what they were from until they got home for fear of Dean totalling the Impala.

 

“Can’t the school do more?” Dean protested. “ _ Shouldn't _ they do more? They attacked you in school during passing time. Doesn’t that deserve worse punishment?”

 

“They were gonna get a week of in school suspension,” Sam said coldly, "until Alistair’s parents thought that it should be more extensive. That’s the only reason they’re suspended for real.”

 

Dean shook his head, running his hand through his hair. He kept pacing. Sam was sure Dean was going to break the floor if he kept going. He watched Dean as he walked, sock clad feet making soft, soon-gone imprints in the carpet. Sam sighed and closed his eyes. His head hurt and his whole left side was sore from Azazel and Alistair’s kicking.

 

Dean stopped pacing, head whipping up to look at Sam.

 

“Hey,” Dean said, something bright playing behind his eyes.

 

“What?” Sam said slowly, opening his eyes to look at Dean.

 

“I know a guy, well, I’ve heard of him,” Dean started. He sat down next to Sam, turned towards him, eyes wide with excitement. “You get beat up in school, right, and picked on and bullied and shit?”

 

“You’re not helping.”

 

“Whatever. And didn’t those same two guys try to beat you up when you had to walk home last week?” Dean mentally cursed himself for not being able to pick Sam up, resulting in the latter acquiring a bloody nose and becoming ten bucks cheaper.

 

“Yeah,” Sam breathed. “Yeah, they beat me up after school, too. What point are you trying to make, because right now you’re only adding to the emotional pain.”

 

Dean tilted his head and looked at Sam. He studied the brown and yellow bruise forming on his brother’s jaw and cheek.

 

“I know a guy,” Dean repeated coolly. “We pay him and he’ll make sure you get home safe. No bruises or bloody noses.”

 

“So, a bodyguard?”

 

“Kinda, but no. He only works for high school kids. As far as I know, most of the teachers don’t know that he does it. Look, Sam, I know it sounds stupid to hire someone who sees the same violence as you but doesn’t do anything unless he’s paid, but you gotta trust me. He’s got connections and shit. He’ll make sure you don’t have anymore trouble.”

 

Sam thought it over, running his thumb over the mark someone’s shoe had left on his hand when was on his knees.

 

“And when he graduates... Then what?”

 

“What do you mean ‘then what’?”

 

“The only person with strong enough connections and power to be doing this has to have worked their way up to the top, meaning he’s gotta be a Senior. He’ll be gone next year, and then what will I do?”

 

Dean was quiet. He didn’t know, but maybe Sam would build up enough immunity to make it through the next three years without protection.

 

“I... don’t know. You’ll be fine by then, Sammy.”

 

Sam laughed in disbelief, shaking his head.

 

“Those assholes are never gonna leave me alone, Dean. You know that, I know that, they know that. One week of suspension isn’t a solution, it’s a vacation. Oh, and what about when we leave, because we  _ will _ leave eventually. This guy that you know of won’t transfer schools with me.”

 

“Sam, please.” Dean looked at him, confusion and persuasion in his eyes. “I just need to know that you’re okay when I’m not around, and... And I’ll figure something out when we move, okay? You know I will. I always do.”

 

Sam sighed, holding his head in his hands.

 

“Fine,” he muttered. “But how are we gonna pay him?”

 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it,” Dean said with a smile, wrapping an arm around Sam’s shoulders. Sam stayed still, hoping that he hadn’t just made a mistake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Quick mention of gore in this chapter just so you're aware, happens when they first meet Lucifer. Comments and likes are love!

Sam showed up to school on Monday, happy that Alistair and Azazel weren’t there, but he dreaded the fact that he was supposed to meet his new “body guard”.

 

Dean had somehow gotten his number and called him, asking for his help to keep Sam safe. The guy had agreed, but had given Dean little information other than location and payment. They were supposed to meet him in the Ag. Science room before first period on Monday. He told Dean to bring 40 bucks upfront, and he’d decide the rest later.

 

Sam followed Dean to the Ag. Science room, hands balled into fists in the pockets of his jacket. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes trained on Dean’s back as he walked in behind him, watching the space between Dean’s shoulder blades.

 

Sam had never liked attention, and now everything about the impending conversation would be about him. He swallowed hard.

 

Dean looked around the room, eyes falling on the only person in it. He was sat at a table, pencil in one hand. Dean would have thought he was working on a project for an art project if it hadn’t been for the image of the decapitated human on the screen of the laptop next to him.

 

“Pretty gruesome,” Dean said, pointing to the screen. The blond looked up at Dean and then at the screen, smirking.

 

“Not really,” he replied. “It’s not as gruesome as the real thing, and thank god you can’t smell it.” Sam looked up at this statement, eyes locking with the blond’s. Sam quickly looked away, tightening his hands into fists. He bit the inside of his lip as he studied the poster of the anatomy of a cow's digestive system hanging on the wall.

 

Dean nodded slowly, confusion and slight concern crossing his face.

 

“My mom’s a mortician,” the blond said, grinning as he watched Dean’s face. He set his pencil down and stood up, walking over to Dean and held his hand out. “Lucifer Novak, and you must be Sam and Dean Winchester.”

 

Dean held out his hand, shaking Lucifer’s.

 

“We are,” Dean replied coolly, elbowing Sam. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking Lucifer’s hand, but didn’t make eye contact. Lucifer tilted his head, studying Sam.

 

“You’re small,” Lucifer said as the corners of his lips twitched up.

 

“I am not,” Sam all but growled, gaze trained on the floor.

 

“Feisty, huh?” Lucifer let a smile crawl across his face. Sam looked up at him, glaring into his eyes.

 

“This isn’t worth the 40, Dean,” Sam said, turning and walking towards the door.

 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dean said quickly as he turned around, grabbing Sam’s arm, pulling him closer. “We need him,  _ you _ need him. Without him your ass will be on the floor as soon as those two idiots come back. I know he’s an asshole, trust me, but bloody noses will be the least of your worries without him.” Sam stared at the floor again, anger clouding his mind. He couldn’t think straight, could feel Lucifer’s stare on him. Dean’s grip felt too tight, like he was breaking Sam.

 

Sam roughly pulled away from Dean, shoving his hand back in his pocket, stepping away from him slightly.

 

“If you tell him that I’m...,” Sam whispered, trailing off, “I will gut you myself.” Dean nodded.

 

“So it’s a yes then?” Lucifer questioned, arms folded over his chest. His smirk was still in place. Sam looked up at him.

 

“Fine,” Sam said, gritting his teeth. He turned and stormed out of the room, heading to his locker.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said turning back to face Lucifer. “He’s just embarrassed, I think. He’s never needed anyone to stick up for him. Hell, usually Sammy’s the one sticking up for other people.” Lucifer nodded, grin slipping.

 

“What didn’t he want you to tell me?”

 

Dean looked at him, surprised.

 

“Well, the thing is, he didn’t want me to tell you.”

 

“Look, Dean, is it? If I’m gonna watch out for him, I’m gonna need information. Besides, I won’t use it against him, can’t, really, what with you paying me to make sure he doesn’t get his head beat in.”

 

Dean looked at Lucifer with slight repulsion. He stepped closer, pushing the money against Lucifer’s chest. Lucifer grabbed it, grinning, then counted the money.

 

“He’ll be in good hands,” Lucifer declared, sly grin on his lips. Dean nodded, brows furrowed slightly. He was apprehensive about Lucifer, and unsure about his decision to let this, admittedly, seemingly brutal person watch out for his little brother.

 

Dean nodded once more and turned, walking to his first hour.

 

\--

 

Tuesday morning came and Sam was already dreading what followed waking up. He knew sooner or later someone other than Azazel and Alistair would take notice of him. Someone would see him as a punching bag, and when they did, Lucifer would, hopefully, and unfortunately, step in.

 

Sam took a deep breath as he walked through the school doors. He could already tell something was up. There was a slight buzz in the air and everyone seemed a little on edge. None of the teachers said good morning to Sam as usual, the staff taking pity on the new kid. It wasn’t until Sam got to his locker that he saw Castiel and Charlie whispering to each other.

 

“I hate to interrupt, but I kinda need to get to my locker,” Sam said when he approached them.

 

“Sam!” Charlie exclaimed, spinning around to face him. Castiel looked at him wide eyed, something almost like sympathy playing at the features of his face.

 

“Is something going on?” Sam tilted his head, eyes shifting from Charlie to Castiel. Charlie looked at Cas, an almost pleading look on her face. Castiel sighed, briefly closing his eyes.

 

“Because Alistair was the one who attacked you first,” Castiel said evenly, “they let Azazel come back early.” Sam’s eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

 

“But they both had a week of suspension,” Sam muttered in disbelief. “When is he coming back? Does Luci-” Sam stopped, realizing neither Castiel or Charlie knew who Lucifer was.

 

Charlie looked at Sam with a confused expression. Castiel tilted his head, eyes trained on Sam.

 

“Nevermind,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Do you know when he comes back, though?”

 

“Later today,” Charlie said slowly. “I have to get to class.” She smiled quickly, turning and walking away. Sam sighed and dropped his backpack. He leaned against his locker. He had to tell Dean, he had to tell Lucifer, but he didn’t want to.

 

“If I tell Dean he’ll tell Lucifer,” Sam muttered, then ran his hands over his face.

 

“Who’s Lucifer?” Castiel asked.

 

“What? No one,” Sam said quickly, turning his head to look at Castiel. “I... have to go. I’ll see you later.” Sam grabbed his backpack, turning and walked down the hall, leaving Cas looking confused next to Sam’s locker.

 

\--

 

Sam knew Dean had first hour with Mr. Shurley, and whispered a silent prayer to whoever was listening for that small miracle.

 

The bell hadn’t rung yet, so Sam slipped into the room to find it half full of Seniors. Dean was in the back of the room working on a packet Sam had knowledge was due that day.

 

“Dean,” Sam said quickly. Dean waved him off, focusing on the packet.

 

“ _ Dean _ ,” Sam said more urgently.

 

“What!” Dean nearly yelled, head whipping up. “What could you possibly want?!”

 

“Castiel and Charlie told me that Azazel’s coming back later today.”

 

“Well then talk to Lucifer.” Dean went back the question he was on. Number 45 of 115. Sam sighed.

 

“Why do I have to talk to him?” Dean didn’t answer.

 

“I was mad, Dean. I take it back. I don’t want him anymore.”

 

“Well tough shit!” Dean yelled, the slight talk in the room abruptly stopping. “I’m paying him, he’s not gonna let anyone kick your ass, and you’re not gonna be ungrateful, okay!” Sam stared at Dean, eyes prickling with tears. His throat felt tight. Dean rarely yelled at him like this, and when he did, it scared Sam more than the bullies.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly. “I’ll find him...” He turned slowly and walked out of the room, head hung.

 

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Jo hissed at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes, going back to the packet.

 

“You don’t have siblings, Jo. You don’t understand. He’s... difficult.” Dean sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam didn’t know what to do. Dean was pissed at him and he wanted nothing to do with Lucifer. He walked back to his locker and shoved his backpack inside, slamming it closed.

 

He knew finding Lucifer would be difficult. Sam had only seen him around school a few times, and it was usually after school or during lunch. Quickly, Sam headed to his first hour, hoping to see Lucifer soon.

 

\--

 

Sam’s first three hours went by quickly. There were whispers and gossip going on in each room Sam had a class in. Everyone knew Sam was dead meat, and he was sure they all wanted front row seats to the event.

 

By the time lunch rolled around, Sam had given up hope of finding Lucifer. That was until he saw him on the other side of the lunch room scanning over the tables. His eyes landed on Sam and he made his way to where Sam and Castiel were sitting.

 

Lucifer sat down next to Castiel, across from Sam.

 

“You’re brother sent me a text,” Lucifer said. He surveyed Sam and Castiel like they were threats. “He said you told him Azazel was coming back.”

 

Sam nodded, setting his sandwich down.

 

“He’s supposed to come back later today.” Sam felt his heartbeat speed up. He looked up at Lucifer. “I-I don’t know when, but he’s in my fifth and seventh period. He won’t hesitate to... attack me, for lack of a better word.”

 

Lucifer nodded, looking down, thinking.

 

“What class do you have fifth hour?” Lucifer asked, looking up at Sam.

 

“Social Studies with Ms. Masters.” Lucifer nodded slowly and stood up.

 

“He won’t bother you,” Lucifer said, turning and walked away. Sam watched him leave, eyes trailing over his back. He noticed how broad Lucifer’s shoulders were and how his shirt pulled tightly over them.

 

“Who was that?” Castiel asked quickly once Lucifer was gone, getting Sam’s attention.

 

“Huh? Oh, that’s, um, Lucifer,” Sam said. “Dean, well, hired him to make sure no one beats me up anymore.” Castiel blinked, tilting his head and furrowing his brows.

 

“I wasn’t aware it was possible to hire someone to do that legally.”

 

“What do you mean legally?” Sam asked, worried.

 

“Well, what are his methods?” Sam was quiet. He didn’t know, neither him nor Dean had asked. Sam shrugged.

 

“If he threatens people, and then acts on it, it’s most likely not legal,” Cas said. “You should ask him.” Sam nodded.

 

“I will.”

 

\--

 

The bell for fifth hour rang and Sam wanted to run. Azazel was in his usual seat, two away from Sam.

 

Sam swallowed and sat down, taking out his notebook as he looked sideways at Azazel, noticing the other boy paid him no attention. Chancing a look, Sam turned his head to look fully at Azazel. Azazel noticed and looked up. He locked eyes with Sam for a fraction of a second before a look of fear crossed his face. Azazel looked quickly at the board, then down at his own notebook.

 

Sam watched him with confusion, but brushed it off and began paying attention to what Ms. Masters was saying.

 

After class, Sam met up with Castiel in the hallway to sixth period.

 

“Azazel barely even looked at me,” Sam said, “and when he did he looked almost scared. He didn’t talk, either. Usually he talks constantly.”

 

Castiel nodded slowly, not looking at Sam.

 

“Have you spoken to Lucifer about his methods?”

 

“No. I haven’t seen him, but I’m gonna ask Dean for his number after school today so I can get in touch with him when I need to.”

 

“I’m concerned, Sam,” Cas said. “Azazel’s been in my grade ever since we were in kindergarten together. He’s not a quiet person by any means, and now that he’s quiet, and knowing that Lucifer has intervened... I’m worried Sam.”

 

“About what?” Sam and Castiel walked into English, taking their seats. “Azazel’s not bothering me, and, hopefully, Alistair won’t either when he comes back. I guess I’ll have to talk to Lucifer about him, too.”

 

“I’m concerned that you affiliating yourself with Lucifer could have consequences. Just because he’s keeping you safe doesn’t mean you or Dean are making a good decision by trusting him.” Sam rolled his eyes.

 

The bell rang and the class went quiet as Mr. Shurley began his lesson.

 

\--

 

Azazel didn’t bother Sam during seventh period, didn’t even look at him.

 

Sam smiled softly as he climbed into the Impala. Dean looked over at Sam, picking up on his brother’s happiness and grinned himself. Dean pulled out of the school parking lot and rolled down the windows.

 

“You look happy,” Dean chimed as he turned on the radio. Sam nodded and tapped his fingers along with the beat.

 

“Azazel didn’t talk to me when he got back. He barely even looked at me, and when he did he looked away really quick,” Sam said happily. “I don’t know what Lucifer did, but it worked.”

 

“Good,” Dean said. He parked the Impala in the driveway and killed the engine, getting out. Sam got out, too, nearly skipping to the door. He couldn’t stop smiling as he walked inside.

 

“I’m gonna have to start calling you smiley instead of Sammy,” Dean laughed. Sam smirked, rolling his eyes and threw his backpack on the floor.

 

“No homework,” Sam said when he was met with Dean’s look of confusion.

 

“You better not. Can’t have your grades slipping.”

 

“They won’t, Dean, especially now that I don’t have to worry about Alistair and Azazel.”

 

“Good.” Dean pulled out a box of cereal, holding it out, asking if Sam wanted any. He shook his head and hopped up on the counter next to Dean.

 

“Can you give me Lucifer’s number?” Sam asked. “Y’know, so I can text him if something happens.” Dean nodded and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Lucifer’s. He handed his phone to Sam.

 

Sam punched Lucifer’s number into his own phone and handed Dean’s back to him.

 

“Thanks,” Sam said, getting down and going to his room.

 

“I’ll call you down for dinner,” Dean yelled after him.

 

“Okay!” Sam yelled back. He pulled his bedroom door open, shutting it quietly behind him. Luckily, John was able to find a house with three bedrooms this time, so Sam had one all to himself.

  
Sam sat down on his bed, still staring at Lucifer’s contact in his phone. He had butterflies in his stomach as he said each number under his breath, followed by a quiet utterance of  _ Lucifer _ . A small smile spread across Sam’s face as he laid back on his bed and shoved his phone in his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, I'm sick. This chapter might be a little rough, trust me, I have not been feeling good. If there are any mistakes, please let me know! The same goes for any chapter. Comments and likes are love!

Sam didn’t like Lucifer, not in the slightest, at least that’s what he told himself. But, god, was he head over heels for him. By Friday Sam had stayed up until God knows how early texting Castiel about him twice that week.

 

The last bell of Friday rang and Sam nearly ran to the Impala, sliding in before Dean even got to the car. Sam tapped his fingers on his thighs as he waited for Dean. It didn’t just feel like butterflies in his stomach, it felt like a goddamn rollercoaster in his gut. Lucifer was supposed to come over later to help Dean with a project for their business class.

 

“Took you long enough,” Sam huffed when Dean got in the car.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

 

“Whatever, jerk.”

 

“Bitch,” Dean laughed. Sam smiled.

 

\--

 

“I think,” Dean said, “that we should talk about how small businesses make most of their money in the beginning.”

 

“And then talk about the process, right?” Lucifer said. “How they launch stuff and get more exposure?” Dean nodded, writing down notes on their outline.

 

Sam sighed and walked into dining room where Dean and Lucifer were sitting at the table.

 

“Dean?” Sam said quietly. Dean and Lucifer looked up. Sam knew his face was red and kept his gaze on Dean, knowing he’d mess this all up if he looked Lucifer in the eye.  _ This stupid crush has gotten out of hand, _ Sam thought.  _ I’ve barely known him for five days. _

 

“What’s up?” Dean said. Sam shook his head, rearranging his thoughts.

 

“I was, uh, wondering what’s for dinner,” Sam said timidly. “It’s getting kinda late.” Dean checked his watch, seeing that it was nearly 8 o’clock.

 

“I can order pizza?”

 

“Sure.” Sam nodded. He turned and walked back upstairs.

 

“I call you down when it gets here!” Dean yelled after Sam.

 

“Okay!” Sam yelled back. He shut his door and sat down on his bed, laying back against the the blanket. Closing his eyes, Sam went over the homework that was due the next week; required reading for English (read), materials for a science project (bought), and a math sheet (finished).

 

Sam’s thoughts drifted to Azael and Alistair. Alistair would be back on Monday, and he’d either have to face him, or talk to Lucifer again.

 

“Lucifer,” Sam whispered, loving how the name felt on his lips. “Lucifer.” He smiled softly. Turning on his side, Sam remembered that he still had to ask Lucifer about how he got Azazel to leave him alone.

 

Dean called up the stairs about 20 minutes later, signaling that the pizza had arrived. Sam got up and walked downstairs, pausing briefly as he watched Lucifer walk back to the kitchen from the bathroom without a shirt on.

 

“Spilled soda on it,” Lucifer said when he saw Sam. Sam nodded and swallowed, watching the way Lucifer's muscles moved under his skin as he reached to grab a glass from the top shelf of the cabinet. Letting out a slow breath, Sam clenched his hands into fists and walked into the kitchen. He took a plate and grabbed a piece of pizza, sitting down at the table opposite where Dean was sitting.

 

“You want something to drink?” Lucifer asked. Sam looked up at him, nodding slowly.

 

“Water’s fine,” Sam said. Lucifer smiled and pulled out another glass and filled it up. He sat it down in front of Sam, and Sam thanked him quickly, not making eye contact. He watched Lucifer’s chest as he walked to his seat and sat down, grabbing a pencil and writing something down. Sam ran his eyes up Lucifer’s arm, studying the curve of his bicep, the smooth skin of his shoulder, and the strong line of his jaw.

 

Sam swallowed and looked down. He picked at his piece of pizza, not really hungry anymore. Dean sat down and pretty much inhaled two pieces of pizza and a can of soda. Lucifer watched Dean and laughed.

 

“You’re gonna get sick, eating like that,” Lucifer said. Dean stared at Lucifer, cheek bulging with food.

 

“I ain’t dead yet,” Dean said around the food. He turned and went back to his paper. Lucifer rolled his eyes and took a bite of his pizza.

 

Sam continued to watch Lucifer. Just the way he existed made Sam’s heartbeat speed up in his chest. Sam glanced at Dean quickly, doing a double take when he saw Dean watching him. He instantly went red at the realization that Dean had seen him watching Lucifer.

 

Dean subtly pointed at Sam, and then at Lucifer. Sam gave a small nod. Dean shook his head outright, and this caught Lucifer's attention.

 

“Is something wrong?” Lucifer asked as he looked from Dean to Sam and back.

 

“I don’t know, is there?” Dean said, gaze locked on Sam.

 

“Uh,” Sam said, shaking his head quickly, chancing a look at Lucifer, who had his head tilted to one side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  _ God, he’s cute, _ Sam thought.

 

“No," he said, both to himself and Lucifer. "There’s no problem.” He swallowed and stood up, taking his plate to the kitchen and leaving it on the counter, going back upstairs.

 

“Th’ kid’s weird,” Dean said as he shook his head. He looked over what he’d written on the paper and erased a few words and rewrote the line.

 

Lucifer nodded slowly, then, pushing his plate away, turned to face Dean. Dean didn’t turn to look at him. Lucifer rolled his eyes and shoved Dean’s shoulder slightly.

 

“Hey,” Lucifer said.

 

“Hey yourself,” Dean said angrily. “You made me fuck up what I was writing.” He erased the mark on the paper.

 

“Whatever,” Lucifer said quickly, then swallowed. “Would you look at me?” Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, but set down his paper and pencil to look at Lucifer.

 

“What?” Dean huffed. Lucifer took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 

“Tell me to stop,” Lucifer said quietly.

 

“What? What d’you-” Lucifer grabbed Dean’s shoulders and leaned forward pressing their mouths together. Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat as his eyes went wide, somehow both resisting and accepting the kiss.

 

\--

 

Sam opened his door and reached for his pocket, getting out his phone. He came up empty as he realized he’d left his phone downstairs.

 

“Damn,” Sam said under his breath. He turned from his room and went back downstairs, trying to remember where he’d left his phone. Walking into the dining room, Sam stopped short. Lucifer had his eyes closed, mouth pressed to Dean’s. Dean’s eyes were wide open, but he wasn’t pulling away from the kiss.

 

Sam didn’t know what noise he made, but whatever it was, it was loud enough for Dean and Lucifer to hear. Lucifer’s eyes shot open and he pulled back. He kept his hands on Dean’s shoulders, but quickly pulled them away. Dean sat stock still staring at Lucifer as redness crept up his cheeks. Lucifer’s face was also red, but he looked more flustered than embarrassed, compared to Dean.

 

“S-Sam,” Dean stuttered weakly. He blinked, finally tearing his eyes away from Lucifer to look at Sam. “I, uh, we didn’t... It’s not what-”

 

“It’s not Dean’s fault,” Lucifer spoke up, gaze moving to Sam. “I kissed him, he didn’t know.”

 

Sam didn’t speak. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move. His palms were sweaty and his eyes prickled. It felt like hot glass was tearing through Sam’s skin and his stomach turned as he looked at Dean and Lucifer. He shook his head, trying to form words that he couldn’t say.

 

“I...” Sam swallowed hard, only now noticing the lump in his throat. He balled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his skin. Knowing his voice would crack if he spoke, Sam kept quiet, feeling his chest begin to tighten. He blinked, a hot tear sliding down his cheek. Quietly, Sam gasped and reached up to brush it away.

 

“Sam,” Dean firmly, standing up.

 

“Don’t,” Sam said weakly, voice cracking, eyes locked on Lucifer’s chest. Maybe, Sam thought, if he watched the rise and fall of Lucifer’s chest long enough, he’d calm down. He didn’t.

 

Lucifer watched Sam, noticing the small changes. His fists trembling slightly, the tear, the way his breathing sped up and stuttered.

 

“Fuck,” Lucifer mumbled. He rubbed his hands over his face. Sam’s eyes flicked up to Lucifer’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Lucifer pulled his hands away and stood up. He shrugged his jacket on and grabbed his shirt.

 

“You don’t have to leave,” Dean said, defeated. He grabbed Lucifer’s arm, pulling him closer. Lucifer wrenched his arm away, but stood close enough to Dean that, if he wanted to, he could have kissed him again. It made Sam sick. Lucifer looked Dean in the eyes, anger flashing through his own.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lucifer growled quietly. Dean flinched slightly. “You knew.”

 

“I didn’t think...,” Dean sighed. “I didn’t think you would kiss me. If I had known I would have said something... You didn’t give me much warning.” Lucifer scoffed.

 

“Whatever. Keep your damn money. You don’t want his ass to get beat,” Lucifer said coldly, pointing at Sam, “teach him how to hold his own.” He turned and pulled the front door open, slamming it behind him. Sam flinched at the noise, eyes flicking to the floor. He couldn’t look at Dean, knowing the anger that would be there.

 

Dean sighed. He ran his hand over his mouth, then crossed his arms.

 

“Go to bed,” Dean said, voice flat, back turned towards Sam.

 

“But-”

 

“Now!” Dean’s chest heaved with the effort to keep from turning around and lashing out at Sam. He wouldn’t hurt him, but he couldn’t stand seeing Sam’s face when he yelled at him.

 

“You know what, Dean?” More tears spilled from Sam’s eyes. “Fuck you.” Dean was silent, staring at the chair Lucifer had previously occupied.

 

“You don’t even fucking care.” Sam shook his head, defeated. He turned away from Dean, trying not to drag his feet as he walked up the stairs to his room.

 

Dean seethed, fists clenched. He felt the rage boiling inside of him, threatening to spill over. He tried to push it down, dull the anger by telling himself it was no one’s fault. But it was his fault. Dean should have stopped Lucifer from kissing him. Maybe he should have kissed back, made sure Lucifer stayed, but hell, Dean wasn’t gay. Everything was moving way too fast, and it was all he could do not to throw up.

 

Sam couldn’t like Lucifer, they had known each other for barely a week, it wasn’t even like they were the same age! Dean sighed. He could already tell this was going to get out of hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I am so sorry that this chapter is so late, I've been sick and a lot of other crap has been going on on top of that. Hopefully the rest of the chapters will come out on time. Comments and likes are love!

Sam threw himself on his bed, heaving into his pillow. He hadn’t cried like this in years. A childhood of moving across the country and breaking ties had hardened Sam, forced him to build walls around himself. Lucifer hadn’t broken any of those walls and Sam was breaking down over him like they had poured their hearts out to each other. Sam knew he was being ridiculous, falling apart over someone he’d met three times.

 

But this was different. Sam felt different, like maybe Lucifer had felt something, too. Maybe they were supposed to be together and this was just a bump in the road.

 

“No,” Sam said rolling onto his back. “He doesn’t want me.” He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his red cheeks. He sniffed, trying to get his composure back, but to no avail. Sam sat up and took the picture from under his pillow. It was slightly faded around the edges and one of the corners was creased. He tried to smile, tried to be strong as he looked at his mother’s smiling face.

 

In the picture, Mary’s hair blew in the wind as the sun shone on her face. She stood in the middle of a field of long grass, long red sundress hanging loosely around her legs as she smiled at the camera. John had taken the picture shortly before they found out Mary was pregnant with Sam.

 

Sam’s smile faltered as he looked at the picture. More tears rushed down his cheeks and his hands shook slightly.  _ Adrenaline, _ he thought. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, making sure to put the picture down when he balled his hands into fists. Slowly, he unclenched his hands and picked the picture back up.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Sam whispered. “I know he doesn’t like me, and I know he’s too old, and he’s a Senior, and that he’d never like someone like me. A freak. We’ll probably be gone soon anyway...” Sam gasped quietly, throwing his hand over his mouth.

 

_ We’ll be gone soon, _ he thought. How would Sam react then? Would John have to pull him away from this place, drag him to the car kicking and screaming while he beat his fists on the ground, calling out Lucifer’s name.

 

His hands shook harder. It felt like Sam’s whole body was shaking apart. His head hurt and he set the picture on his nightstand, standing up on shaky legs, going to the door. Sam gripped the railing as he made his way downstairs. He didn’t know what was happening. He felt like his body was shutting down on him, like the walls were falling over him.

 

“Dean,” Sam said weakly, barely audible, when he got to the bottom of the stairs. “Dean!”

 

Dean walked out of the kitchen. He was mad, Sam could tell, but he knew Dean wouldn’t lash out at him again, not when Sam was like this.

 

“What?” Dean growled. Maybe Sam was wrong.

 

Dean’s face instantly softened when he saw Sam crying and shaking. He rushed to Sam, grabbing his shoulders and tried to look him in the eye. Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze, eyes locked on the floor.

 

“Sam, hey, look at me,” Dean said gently. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I-I don’t, d-don’t know,” Sam stuttered. He couldn’t stop his jaw from shaking and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. His throat hurt and he could barely breathe, only now noticing he was gripping the front of Dean’s shirt in his sweaty fists.

 

“You gotta breathe, Sam,” Dean pleaded. “Watch me.” Dean breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Sam copied Dean, barely holding himself up, weight pressed against the railing. His chest burned, but the shaking had gone down. Getting his breathing fairly back to normal, Sam looked up at Dean, eyes red rimmed and cheeks stained with tears. Dean smiled weakly and hugged Sam, pulling him close to his chest.

 

“What’s wrong?” Dean whispered.

 

“He doesn’t want me,” Sam said quietly into Dean’s chest. “He never will.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let anymore tears fall. He knew if his father had been home, he would surely be crying for another reason.

 

“Please don’t do this to yourself,” Dean said, rubbing Sam’s back soothingly. “You’re young, Sam. He’s not all you’re ever gonna need.”

 

“But he’s what I want...”

 

Dean sighed, pulling back to look at Sam. He kept his hands on Sam’s arms. Dean had no idea what to say. He’d never had to face something like this before. Sure, he could talk Sam out of a small crush, but those crushes had never kissed him before. Sam had also never cried like this over someone before.

 

“I don’t know what to say.” Dean spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on Sam’s face. “I want you to be happy, but... I can’t help you with this. I’ve never, ya know, with a guy. I-I don’t know, and I’m afraid I’m gonna say something that I shouldn’t and I’ll accidentally make you feel like shit and I can’t do that to you, Sam. I can’t, not again.”

 

“He said he kissed you,” Sam said coldly. “ _ You _ didn’t make me feel like shit. The fact that I thought he could lo... Like me, did.” He looked down at his feet, the fabric of his pyjamas pooling slightly around his heels.

 

“Like I said. He doesn’t want me,” Sam said quietly. He pulled away from Dean and walked back upstairs. Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. He was so lost. He had no idea how to help Sam, no idea what to say, no way to comfort him. It also didn’t help that Lucifer probably wanted nothing to do with either of them ever again. Shit.

 

\--

 

Sam didn’t go to school on Monday. He’d stayed in his room the entire weekend, only coming out to use the bathroom and eat what little food he could stomach. Dean tried to get Sam to eat leftover pizza, but Sam had thrown it up half an hour later. The same happened with soup and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All Sam could eat was cereal and Jello, if he was lucky.

 

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Dean asked as he shrugged his coat on, getting ready to leave. Sam nodded and shoved his hands deep in the pocket of his hoodie.

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“If anything comes up, text me,” Dean said, looking at Sam. Sighing, Sam nodded. He knew he’d be fine. He hoped.

 

“I’ll be home about 5:30, okay?” Dean grabbed his bag.

 

“I know. You told me all of this last night. I can take care of myself, Dean.” Dean closed his eyes briefly, opening them and saying goodbye before he walked out to the Impala, driving to school.

 

Sam sighed and sat down on the couch, leaning back and ran his hands over his face. He knew he’d have to go to school the next day and that there’d be almost no way to avoid Alistair. Talking to Lucifer definitely wasn’t an option and there was no way Sam was going to fight back and get in trouble. He didn’t know why, but Sam was sure the first fight at school was his fault, and didn’t want to be held accountable for another one.  _ It’s cause you’re bi, idiot, _ Sam thought.

 

“No,” he said. “It’s not my fault. They attacked me. I didn’t... I didn’t do anything.” Sam was beginning to doubt that he hadn’t done something. Maybe he’d looked at one of them wrong, or maybe it was because he was friends with the wrong people. Whatever it was, Sam was sure he did something to provoke Alistair and Azazel into beating him up.

 

Sam took a shuddering breath and tried to calm his nerves. He’d be behind when he went back to school  _ and _ he’d have to deal with Azazel and Alistair. In other words, he was fucked.

 

Picking up his phone, Sam sent Dean a text telling him he felt sick. Dean called him back.

 

“Sam? You okay, you need me to come home?” Sam could hear the worry in Dean’s voice.

 

“No,” Sam said quietly, shaking his head. “I’ll... I should be fine, I just... I just needed to talk to someone.”

 

Dean sighed over the phone.

 

“You can say no, but... I can see if Lucifer is free to come over and check on you, if you want.”

 

Sam didn’t say anything. He wanted Lucifer to come over, wanted to see him, but what if Lucifer didn’t agree to come over? What if he did? He’d said that he was done with Sam and Dean. Sam shrugged.

 

“Sure,” Sam said weakly. “Do what you want.” He hung up.


	7. Chapter 7

“Come on,” Dean mumbled as he called Lucifer for the third time.

 

“What?” Lucifer said, finally picking up the phone.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

“Shove it, Winchester. What do you want?”

 

“Can you go check on Sam? He called me and said he didn’t feel good. I just wanna make sure he’s okay.”

 

Lucifer was quiet. He didn’t want to go check on Sam, he thought he’d made that clear when he’d left on Friday night. He sighed.

 

“Fine, but you’re paying me.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’ll pay you tomorrow. Just make sure Sam’s alright.”

 

“I will.” Lucifer hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. He’d have to figure out a way to get out of class.

 

\--

 

Sam paced back and forth, stomach in knots. He wrung his hands and checked the clock. Lucifer was supposed to be there in five minutes. Sam sighed and sat down at the table, laying his head down on his arms. Three minutes. Counting the seconds, Sam swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say to Lucifer when he showed up. ‘I’m sorry I had a panic attack when I say you kissing my brother’ probably wouldn’t cut it.

 

There was a knock at the door. Sam sat up and took a deep breath before he stood up and walked to the door, opening it and braced himself.

 

“Hey,” Lucifer said with a forced smile.

 

“Hi,” Sam squeaked. He stood to the side and let Lucifer in. Lucifer shrugged his coat off and threw it over the back of a chair as Sam closed the door.

 

“Before we awkwardly avoid each other,” Lucifer started, hands held up a little, “are you okay? Dean wanted me to make sure.” Sam smiled weakly and huffed out a laugh.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just... worried about Alistair I guess.” Lucifer nodded and wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulder, leading him to the couch. Sam instantly tensed under Lucifer’s touch. They sat down, Lucifer turning to look at Sam, who still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. He sat up straight, stock still. Lucifer frowned.

 

“I know,” Lucifer said quietly, “that you don’t really want me here, but at the same time you do. And I know that you... like me. I get that, I really do.”

 

“I don’t like you,” Sam said coldly. Lucifer sighed.

 

“I know you do. I saw the way you looked at me, and how mad you got when I... kissed Dean.” Lucifer looked down, saying the last two words like he was guilty. Sam closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

 

“I can’t like you,” Sam said. “And you don’t like me, so what’s the point of me liking you?” Lucifer felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

 

“Everyone deserves to like someone.”

 

“Stop,” Sam said quietly. “I don’t want your pity.”

 

“Fuck, Sam, I don’t pity you. All I’m saying is that it’s okay if you like me-”

 

“But I don’t like you!” Sam yelled, standing up and looked at Lucifer with tired eyes. “Why the hell can’t you understand that?!”

 

“Because I know your type, Sam,” Lucifer said gently and stood up. “You’re young and you don’t want to admit that you’re confused about what you want.”

 

Sam felt anger boiling under his skin. He was mad, pissed, and he didn’t know why. Lucifer was alright with Sam liking him, so why was Sam so upset? He had no idea.

 

“Maybe you’ll find someone else,” Lucifer offered, shrugging. “Find a guy who makes you happy and-”

 

“I’m not fucking gay!” Sam yelled, louder this time. “I never said I was gay!” His chest heaved and he balled his hands into fists. He needed to punch something.

 

“I didn’t say you were. It’s just the way you acted when I kissed-”

 

“Would you let that go already?” Sam felt tears threatening to spill over. “And what if I don’t want someone else? What if you’re all I want?”

 

“You can’t know that, Sam. You’re fourteen and you think you know everything, but let me tell you, I am not all there is,” Lucifer growled. “There’s a whole world of people to help you figure out who and what you want. I am  _ not _ the be all, end all of your relationships.” Lucifer was beginning to get fed up with Sam. He was acting like a child, and Lucifer had never been good with kids.

 

Sam took a deep breath and looked down, blinking back tears.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

 

Lucifer’s eyes widened, face softening.

 

“Oh,” Lucifer whispered. “I-It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I probably would have gotten mad, too. It’s fine. Really.”

 

Sam shook his head. His eyes were red rimmed and his throat hurt. Now he knew Lucifer hated him. Hated him for getting mad, hated him for liking him, hated him for making Lucifer leave school just for Sam to start yelling at him.

 

“You can leave if you want. I understand.” Sam folded his arms loosely over his chest.

 

“Sam,” Lucifer sighed, “it’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.” Stepping closer to him, Lucifer tilted Sam’s face up to look at him. Lucifer smiled. “See?”

 

Sam smiled weakly.

 

“Yeah. I see.” Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking at Lucifer’s eyes. He’d never noticed how blue they were. Sam smiled brighter, not looking away from Lucifer.

 

Lucifer didn’t pull his hand away, just kept it on Sam’s chin as his smile faded. He traced his eyes over Sam’s face and bit his own lip slightly, eyes trailing over Sam’s. His soft pink lips looked smooth. Lucifer wondered what they tasted like. He stepped even closer to Sam and ran his other hand through his hair, tilting his head farther back.

 

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat as he let Lucifer touch him. He felt electricity skating under his skin as Lucifer’s fingers moved through his hair. Something Sam couldn’t place made his stomach turn, but he felt good like this, with Lucifer’s hands on him.

 

“Yes,” Sam said softly. Lucifer nodded with half lidded eyes as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Sam’s. He moaned quietly as Sam grabbed his biceps to hold himself up, lightly running his fingernails over Sam’s scalp. Sam nearly melted as Lucifer dragged his tongue between their lips. He tightened his grip on Lucifer’s arms as he opened his lips to let Lucifer’s tongue into his mouth.

 

Lucifer closed his eyes and moaned into Sam’s mouth. It was all wet heat, his tongue moving against Lucifer’s as they kissed, and Sam whined as Lucifer deepened the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his body against Lucifer, wanting, needing to feel his skin. Lucifer moved his hands down Sam’s body, grabbed his thighs and picked him up. Sam gasped and wrapped his legs around Lucifer’s waist and arms around his shoulders, mouths still pressed together.

 

Leaning over, Lucifer gently laid Sam down on the couch and straddled his hips. He pressed their mouths together again and rolled Sam’s bottom lip between his teeth, adding slight pressure. Grabbing Sam’s hips, Lucifer slid his hands under Sam’s shirt and pushed it up to his chest.

 

“Sit up,” Lucifer whispered. Sam did and Lucifer pulled Sam’s shirt off, pulling his own off over his head.

 

“Wait, Lucifer,” Sam said quietly, “I-I’ve never...” He looked down at Lucifer’s chest and back up to his face. “I don’t know how.”

 

Lucifer kissed Sam softly, running his hands up Sam’s back to thread his fingers through his hair. He pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on Sam.

 

“We don’t have to,” Lucifer said. “We probably shouldn’t, I mean, at least not on the couch.” He laughed.

 

Sam laughed briefly, but looked down. He stopped smiling and pulled his hands away from Lucifer.

 

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer cupped Sam’s jaw in one hand and tilted his head up.

 

“I’m too young,” Sam whispered. “Dean’ll kill me if he finds out, and you know he will if we do. I’m sorry...”

 

“You don’t have to apologize, Sam. It’s not your fault.”

 

“But it is.  _ I’m _ too young,  _ I’m _ the one who’s gotta make sure Dean doesn’t find out. And if we do... something, then  _ I’m _ gonna be the one who has to go through the rest of high school carrying that. Probably even after high school...”

 

Lucifer didn’t say anything. He knew Sam was right.

 

He threaded his fingers through Sam’s, brought Sam’s hand up and kissed his knuckles. Lucifer watched Sam’s face. He didn’t look at Lucifer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Yes, we are finally getting into some sort of relationship between Sam and Lucifer, thank goodness, they're so cute! Comments and likes are love!

Sam woke up on Tuesday and wanted to stab someone with a pair of scissors. Multiple times. His head hurt like hell and he could barely keep his eyes open for more than a few moments. It probably didn’t help that Lucifer was asleep next to him.

 

They hadn’t done anything, Sam made sure of that, but they had stayed up until nearly 2:30 in the morning talking and trading kisses after Sam had snuck him up there when Dean came home. Lucifer had promised Sam that Dean wouldn’t have to pay him anymore to keep Sam safe. He’d still keep Azazel and Alistair away, though, and anyone else who messed with Sam.

 

Sam looked over at Lucifer’s sleeping form and rolled his eyes. He punched Lucifer’s shoulder and mumbled for him to wake up. Groaning, Lucifer rolled over and sat up, eyes half closed. His hair was even more of a mess than usual. Sam laughed quietly and kneeled next to Lucifer to try and fix his hair.

 

“It’s not gonna stay down,” Lucifer mumbled, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and resting his head on his chest.

 

“Whatever. C’mon, we have to get up.” Sam moved off the bed and grabbed Lucifer’s wrist and pulled him up. They got dressed and went downstairs, stopping to kiss on the landing in the middle of the stairs.

 

“Fuck,” Sam said quietly. “What if Dean sees you?”

 

“So what if he does? He knows I wouldn’t do anything to you, not unless you wanted me to.” Lucifer smirked and ran his hand through Sam’s hair, bringing their lips together. Sam kissed back briefly before pulling away and walked down the stairs, Lucifer trailing behind.

 

Dean was already sitting at the dinner table leaning over a bowl of cereal. There were a few papers spread out to his right and a pen in his hand. He was copying someone’s notes, and doing a pretty shitty job of it.

 

“Waiting until the last second, I see,” Lucifer said when he and Sam walked into the dining room. Dean looked up in confusion, then his eyes widened. He looked back and forth from Sam to Lucifer. Sam rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to find some medicine for his headache while Lucifer sat down across from Dean. A flash of anger crossed the older Winchester’s face.

 

“Did you two-”

 

“No, Dean,” Lucifer interrupted, “we did not, and we will not.”

 

“Good. And this better be a one time thing, I don’t like waking up to you eating my food.”

 

“I haven’t eaten your food, Dean.”

 

Dean hummed and nodded slowly, taking a bite of cereal and jotted down a few more notes. Lucifer huffed with a smile and stood up, walking to the kitchen.

 

Sam stood in front of the sink and swallowed the last of the water in his glass, setting it down next to the sink. Lucifer pressed against Sam’s back and laced his fingers over Sam’s stomach. Leaning his head back, Sam rested his hands over Lucifer’s, pressing back against him.

 

“Your brother thought we fucked,” Lucifer said, kissing the top of Sam’s head. Sam laughed quietly.

 

“What did you tell him?” Sam closed his eyes.

 

“I told him that we didn’t and that we won’t. Well, not yet at least, but I didn’t say that.”

 

“What do you mean ‘not yet’?”

 

Lucifer shrugged and brought one arm up to lay across Sam’s chest, fingers wrapping around his bicep. He rested his chin on Sam’s head and stared out the window over the sink.

 

“I thought that maybe we could work up to it. Maybe nothing too... serious until you’re eighteen.”

 

“That’s in four years,” Sam sighed.

 

“Three, more like,” Lucifer said. “Your brother told me your birthday is May second. I’ll have to remember that, get you a birthday present.”

 

Sam laughed quietly and looked at the clock. He sighed and moved out of Lucifer’s arms.

 

“We have to leave in ten minutes or we’ll be late.”

 

“Oh, shit,” Dean said as he walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t realize it’s almost time to leave. You both got all your stuff?”

 

Sam and Lucifer nodded.

 

\--

 

School went by in a blur, Sam going from one class to the next without much realization of the murmuring going on around him. Apparently enough people had seen Lucifer get out of Dean’s car to start rumors. By the last hour of the day, Castiel was itching to talk to Sam, had to know what happened.

 

“Lucifer got out of Dean’s car,” Castiel said as soon as he saw Sam.

 

“Uh, yeah...”

 

“Well, what happened? Did they, um, you know... Do it?”

 

Sam tensed up and looked away from Castiel. He sighed quietly, then shook his head.

 

“No, they didn’t do anything. Dean just gave Lucifer a ride when his car wouldn’t start. Nothing happened.” Castiel looked down and nodded. He walked away and took his seat, waiting for class to start.

 

Sam didn’t pay attention during that class. He was too busy thinking about what he was going to tell Lucifer. He knew that this couldn’t happen, this thing between them. People were already talking about something as small as Lucifer getting out of Dean’s car. Sam knew that if it happened again, the rumors would most likely escalate, and Dean would no doubt hear the worst of them.

 

“Mr. Winchester.”

 

Sam looked up at Ms. Milton while most of the class turned to look at Sam.

 

“Y-yes?”

 

“You seem to be preoccupied by something. Maybe you’d like to ask the class for some suggestions?”

 

“Uh, no, but thank you for your concern.” Sam tried to smile while a few kids tried to stifle their laughter. Ms. Milton sighed and shook her head.

 

“I’d like to speak with you after class, Mr. Winchester,” Ms. Milton said, turning back to the board.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said. He was sure he saw Azazel try not to laugh.

 

“Is something bothering you, Sam?” Ms. Milton asked him after class. She placed her hand gently on Sam’s shoulder, leading him to sit down at one of the tables. “You’ve been... distant, lately, for lack of a better word. You’re grades are still up, thank goodness-” She cut herself off, looking at Sam. “I didn’t mean-”

 

“No, I understand,” Sam muttered. “Please, just continue. My brother won’t care whether I’m five minutes late or fifteen, he’s probably already gone. He’ll be mad anyway.”

 

Ms. Milton frowned and tilted her head, eyebrows knitting together. She pulled her hand off of Sam’s arm and folded her hands in her lap.

 

“Like I said,” she continued, “you’ve been distant. I’m worried about you, Sam. Usually you’re quite attentive during class. I was just wondering if something was happening at home, or maybe in school...?”

 

Sam shook his head and looked down.

 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

 

“You know you can always talk to me, Sam. I’m here to listen to you.” Sam looked up and Ms. Milton smiled, the emotion not reaching her eyes. He almost wanted to laugh.

 

“I understand. Thank you.” Sam spoke quietly before he stood up, Ms. Milton following suit, both of them walking to the door. Sam muttered a goodbye and walked to the front of the school. He didn’t think it would be worth getting in more trouble for going to his locker for things he didn’t need.

 

Sam pushed open the door to the school and walked out. He squinted at the sunlight and looked around the parking lot. No Dean, no Impala. Sighing, Sam was about to turn around when he he heard someone call his name. He sighed again and looked to the other side of the lot. Lucifer.

 

He was leaned up against the passenger door of, what Sam guessed, was his car, arms folded over his chest. From the knowledge bestowed upon Sam by Dean about old cars, Sam could at least tell it was a Chevy.

 

Sam took a deep breath and walked across the parking lot. He stopped a few feet in front of Lucifer, just looking at him. From this distance Sam could tell the make and model of the car. It was a ‘65 Bel Air, and was solid pink, roughly the color of bubble gum. Lucifer smiled and raised his eyebrows at Sam.

 

“You drive a  _ pink _ car?”

 

Lucifer’s smile faltered, finally disappearing.

 

“You’re  _ late _ . Get in.” Lucifer walked around to the driver’s side and slid in, shutting the door. “And you’re lucky that I went home at lunch and got my car.”

 

“I’ll call Dean to pick me up,” Sam said loudly over sound of the engine starting. Lucifer shook his head.

 

“Dean left for work and asked me to pick you up. Said he still didn’t want you walking home.” Lucifer sat with his arm across the back of the white leather seat, other hand on the steering wheel, leaned over to look at Sam through the open window. He raised his eyebrows in question. Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine,” Sam sighed. He pulled open the door and got in, closing the door harder than Lucifer had.

 

“Do I need to start opening and closing doors for you?” Lucifer asked, an accusatory tone to his voice. Sam laughed quietly and looked out the window.

 

“I’m serious, Winchester. I worked for this car, paid for it with my own money that I  _ earned _ .”

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Sam held his hands up in mock surrender before putting on his seatbelt. Lucifer did the same, rolling his eyes. He revved the engine and put the car in gear, pulling out of the parking lot. Sam was pretty sure they fishtailed.

 

“Are you trying to kill us?” Sam asked, gripping the door handle. Lucifer smirked and looked sideways at Sam.

 

“I wouldn’t hurt a sweet thing like you,” Lucifer purred, voice low. “Unless you wanted me to.”

 

Sam’s eyes widened and he blushed deep red, not sure how to respond. Lucifer laughed and then bit his lip, turning his head to look at Sam. Still blushing, Sam looked down with a small smile on his lips. He looked up at Lucifer.

 

“I love your face, kid,” Lucifer said as he turned back to look at the road, “but I don’t feel like getting in an accident today.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I-I mean no.” Sam turned an even deeper shade of crimson.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry that this chapter was late, a lot of crap was going on last week. Also, there's talk about suicide in this chapter, and some violence near the end, so be sure to watch out for that if those are thing's you'd rather not read. Comments and likes are love!

“I will duct tape your hands to the chair if you don’t stop tapping that damn pencil,” Lucifer deadpanned, not even looking up from his work.

 

“What? Oh, sorry.” Sam blushed and set his pencil down. He knew Lucifer was joking, but he also knew he was more than capable of actually doing it.

 

“What’s up with you anyway?” Lucifer asked as he worked on his math homework at Sam’s dining room table. Sam sat next to him working on his own science paper.

 

“Nothing’s wrong...,” Sam said, not even sounding convincing to himself.

 

Luckily, the past two days had passed without incident from either Ms. Milton or Azazel, but Sam was still uneasy. Alistair hadn’t been in school all week, and Castiel told Sam he wasn’t there on Monday either. Sam shouldn’t have been worried, he should have been happy, but something felt off about Alistair’s absence. There was no way Sam would find out why, though. It was Friday night and, as far as Sam knew, Alistair wasn’t coming back to school anytime soon.

 

“Don’t lie to me, Samuel.”

 

“Fine... I’m worried about... Things...” Sam picked his pencil back up and wrote a few words.

 

Lucifer stopped writing and turned to look at him.

 

“Things?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand. I wouldn’t expect you to try to understand... I have to finish this, okay?”

 

“It’ll be okay,” Lucifer said quietly, pulling the pencil from Sam’s hands and took hold of them gently, “after you tell me what’s bothering you.” He held both of Sam’s hands in his left hand, using the other to tilt Sam’s face up. Smiling softly, Lucifer kissed him gently.

 

Sam sighed and kissed back, eyes slipping shut. He pulled back after a few seconds and looked at his hands in Lucifer’s.

 

“It’s Alistair,” he whispered. “He hasn’t been at school all week and I’m worried that I’ve got something to do with it.”

 

“You have nothing to do with him being gone.” Lucifer set Sam’s hands in his lap and cupped his jaw, running his thumbs over his cheeks. “He’s probably just sick or something. Maybe the school thought it would be better if he didn’t come back right away.”

 

“I doubt it. The principal seemed pretty pissed that either of them were gone at all. You know, I don’t think he was even mad that they beat me up.”

 

“Probably all the paperwork he had to fill out.” Lucifer smiled softly.

 

“Again, I doubt it.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, pulling away from Lucifer’s hands. “I know that it has to do with me. There’s no other reason Alistair wouldn’t be at school.”

 

Lucifer sighed and sat back, running a hand through his short hair. He knew Sam was wrong about Alistair, and there had to be some way he could prove it.

 

“How about you don’t worry about Alistair until Monday, okay? I’m sure you’re not the only one who doesn’t want him back. From what I’ve seen, he’s a dick to everyone.” Lucifer paused and looked Sam up and down. “Someone will probably thank you when you get back, you know, for getting Azazel and Alistair kicked out of school.”

 

Sam scoffed and shook his head, turning to look out the window across from them, watching the trees sway gently in the breeze.

 

“Nobody’s gonna thank me for getting my ass kicked. It was only a matter of time before those douchebags got caught. There’s nothing special about  _ me _ being the one to get them suspended...”

 

Lucifer sighed, breaking down and nodded. He knew Sam was stubborn, and that there was almost no way to get him to believe him.

 

\--

 

There was an assembly held on Monday morning in the gymnasium, and Sam felt like he had a rock sitting in his stomach. He knew,  _ he knew _ , it had to do with Alistair, and that meant it had to do with him. Some of the teachers had tissues in their hands, one or two even looked like they had been crying.

 

“Oh, God,” Sam whispered just loud enough for Castiel to hear him.

 

“What?” Cas asked, tilting his head.

 

“This can’t be good.”

 

The principal, Mrs. Naomi as she liked to be called, walked to the middle of the gym in front of where everyone was seated on the bleachers. She calmed the students and faculty and cleared her throat, getting everyone’s attention.

 

“Over the weekend,” she started, “a tragedy occurred. Alistair Croft was found overdosed on prescription drugs Friday night after his parents left to visit family in a neighboring city. It is not known why he did this and no note has been found. This is a troubling situation to be in for some people, so if you do not feel comfortable, you may leave.”

 

Sam watched as a few students left and a teacher followed them. He stayed, but turned around and scanned the crowd to try and find Lucifer, but didn’t see him. Mrs. Naomi started talking again, regaining Sam’s attention.

 

“Because of the matter of the events that have unfolded, some people may feel more affected than others. We would like to remind you that both teachers and school counselors are here to help you through this tough time. Many people are affected by suicide each year, and suicide rates tend to go up when someone well known passes away. I’m sure many of you knew Alistair in some way, and his passing came as a great shock to many of us, both teachers and students. During this time Alistair’s parents have asked that you refrain from visiting until after the funeral. Arrangements can be made if you would like to send the family any type of condolences, but they must be in a written form of some sort.”

 

She nodded once and walked to the side of the gym. The school psychologist took the microphone and talked more about why someone might commit suicide, and said that counseling will be available for anyone who may need it. After that everyone was dismissed to their second hour.

 

\--

 

“Sam, I  _ swear _ I didn’t know.”

 

“Why the hell else would he have killed himself!  _ You _ had to have done something, said something. Did you threaten him? Did you!”

 

“Why would you even think that? I have done nothing but good since we met!”

 

Sam shook his head and scoffed.

 

“You are so oblivious to this, Lucifer. Alistair is dead, and you ask me if I think we’re ready to fuck? How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Lucifer said, “I just think that if I get you off, then maybe you won’t be so stressed over this.”

 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

 

They were both standing in Sam’s kitchen after school and were already yelling at each other not fifteen minutes after they'd walked in the door. Lucifer hadn’t been at school until after lunch and nobody had informed him of the assembly held at the beginning of the day. That task had been left to Sam after he’d gone off at Lucifer when he placed his hand on the inside of Sam’s thigh halfway through their ride home.

 

“So what do you think?” Sam asked when he looked back to Lucifer. He was quiet for a moment.

 

“I think,” Lucifer started, “that his death has made you feel even worse, and I just want to make you feel okay.”

 

“Lucifer, there are other ways of making me feel okay opposed to sticking your dick in me,” Sam declared sternly.

 

“That’s not-that’s not what I meant by it. I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you and-”

 

“Fuck you,” Sam deadpanned.

 

“W-what? I-,” Lucifer stuttered. “Sam-”

 

“Get out,” he growled. “Now.”

 

“Sam, I swear I didn’t mean anything by it.”

 

“Get out! Get the fuck out of here!”

 

Anger crossed Lucifer’s face as he stared at Sam, emotions flickering behind his eyes. This wasn’t the first time someone had said these things to him. He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

 

“No,” he snarled.

 

Sam stilled and slowly looked up at Lucifer, his eyes widening when their gazes met.

 

“What did you say?” he whispered.

 

“I said,” Lucifer growled, lowering his head, “ _ no _ .”

 

Sam took a step back and swallowed. He put his hands out in front of him, not sure what Lucifer would do. His chest tightened as Lucifer stepped closer to him, his eyes dark.

 

“Lucifer,” Sam said calmly, “talk to me. What’s going on.”

 

“I am not leaving, and there is no way you’re making me. I have had too many people tell me to get out and am  _ not _ about to let some stupid Freshman tell me what to do... You have no  _ idea _ what I’m going to do to you.”

 

With that Lucifer charged forward, grabbing Sam’s throat with one hand and slammed his chest with the other fist. He pushed Sam back until he hit the wall behind him and his head snapped back, smacking the tile. Sam gasped and grabbed at the hand around his neck as he tried to hold himself up.

 

“L-Lucifer,” Sam whispered, his voice rough. He tried to pull in a breath, but Lucifer’s hand was still tight on his throat, his eyes were sullen as he watched Sam’s face. The boy’s vision swam, both from the impact to the wall and Lucifer's hand around his throat. It took Sam almost two minutes to pass out. When he did, Lucifer let him drop to the floor, taking a step back, finally noticing the blood on the wall and in Sam’s hair from where his head had hit. A quiet gasp escaped Lucifer’s mouth before he fell to his knees next to Sam.

 

“No,” he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at his boyfriend. Gingerly, Lucifer lifted Sam’s head, resting it on his lap. Blood marked the floor. Lucifer ran his shaking fingers over Sam’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his face.

 

“Oh, God, Sam, no.” Lucifer’s voice trembled when the first tears slid down his cheeks as Sam’s blood seeped into the material of his jeans.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Yes, finally, a chapter that's posted on time lol. They should be coming more regularly now, things are getting back on track. Also, my Spring Break is in two weeks, so hopefully I'll have a one-shot I've been working on out by then, and maybe I'll post an extra chapter here... But we'll see. Comments and likes are love!

_ “...Sammy... Hey... Sam...” _

 

_ “Sam...  _ Sam. Sam!”

 

Sam gasped and grabbed the first thing he felt, that being Dean’s hand in his. He opened his eyes wide, Dean helping him to sit up.

 

“Dean? Wha... What happened?” Sam whispered. His head hurt like a bitch and he could feel his hair sticking to his skin. Something wet trickled down the back of his neck.

 

“I don’t know, Sammy. I got home and found you on the floor, with...” Dean swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly. “With blood everywhere.”

 

He helped Sam sit up further, pressing a cold rag to the back of his head. Sam looked around, noticing the blood on the floor and on the wall, figuring that must be what was on his neck. Most of the blood on the wall was dried, but the puddle on the floor was still wet. He cringed, his head spinning with the lack of knowledge of what had happened, seemingly, not too long ago.

 

“Do you remember anything?” Dean asked. He was crouched next to Sam with one hand holding the rag to his head, his face etched with concern.

 

“N-no, I...” Sam’s eyes widened and he looked up at Dean. “Lucifer,” he whispered. Anger flashed through Dean’s face and he pulled away from Sam, standing up and stalked toward the kitchen door.

 

“That son of a bitch!” he yelled, then turned around to face Sam, pointing at him. “I fucking told you he was no good! Why the hell didn’t you listen to me? He’s eighteen, Sam, he’s  _ huge _ ! He could have fucking killed you!”

 

“You never said he was no good for me,” Sam argued. “All you cared about was making sure we weren’t fucking. I’d say that’s kinda shitty on your part.”

 

“This isn’t about me-”

 

“Then why are you making it about you?”

 

Dean was quiet as he stared at Sam. He shook his head before running his hands over his face, sighing. His hands dropped and he walked back to Sam, helping him up slowly, sitting him down on the couch.

 

“I can take you to the hospital if you want,” Dean murmured, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

 

“No, I’m okay. Maybe just some medicine for the headache.” Dean nodded and stood up, walking to the bathroom to get the medicine.

 

He sighed as he held the small bottle in his hand, reading over the label for how much to give Sam. The knowledge that he’d left Sam alone with someone who came close to killing him shook Dean hard. He was supposed to be there for Sam,to take care of him, make sure he didn’t get hurt. He’d fucked up royally this time. Not knowing when their dad would be back, Dean was walking on thin ice with the whole Sam and Lucifer situation, especially now that Dean was determined to beat the shit out of Lucifer.

 

He walked to the kitchen and got a glass of water, bringing it to Sam with two small pills. Sam swallowed them followed by the water before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

"It was my fault," Sam said after a few minutes of silence. "I got mad at him for something he had no way of knowing."

 

"Him beating you up is not your fault, Sam."

 

"He didn't beat me up, he just... I dunno, but he didn't beat me."

 

Dean shook his head in disbelief, then ran a hand through his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes, Sam noticed, when he looked up at him.

 

"So what do you want me to do?" Dean asked. "I'm either calling the cops, or I'm gonna go find Lucifer and beat the living shit out of him. Your choice."

 

Sam swallowed, looking down. He knew Dean would do one of the two things either way, or maybe do both, which wouldn't surprise Sam at all.

 

"Just go find him," he murmured and stood up, heading for the stairs. He stopped at the landing and listened to Dean grab his keys and slam the door, causing him to wince.

 

Sam walked up the rest of the stairs and to his room. It was late, almost nine, and he had homework. He'd put it off until study hall the next day, he decided, falling back onto his bed before pulling out his phone. There were no new notifications. Sighing, he pulled up the last conversation he and Lucifer had had the night before.

 

'I dont wanna go to school' Lucifer had sent on Sunday night.

 

'You have to' Sam had replied.

 

'Nuhuh, im a senior i aint gotta do shit'

 

'Oh my god i have never heard you talk like that ever'

 

'No. I am a Senior and I am not required to do anything. Better?'

 

'No, now you sound like a teacher'

 

'We cant have that happen'

 

Sam smiled as he read it over, but wondered how someone so (relatively) normal could have attacked him the way Lucifer had. They needed to talk. He started a new conversation.

 

'Luce?' he sent. Figuring a reply wouldn't come, at least not anytime soon, Sam plugged his phone in and walked to the bathroom. He showered, making sure he got all the dried blood off before getting out. It was almost ten when he had gotten dressed again, pulling on an old T-shirt and some boxers. Again, he checked his phone, but there were just a few texts from Dean about where he was and that he'd be home soon. Sighing, he replied and got in bed.

 

It felt cold without Lucifer. He'd spent the night on Friday and Saturday, and the empty feeling played at Sam's nerves. He was mad at Lucifer for hurting him, as well as being a little scared at the sudden use of power. Sam wondered if he should have seen it coming, maybe not this time, but at some point. Lucifer was going to use his height, strength, and weight to his advantage eventually, but Sam didn't think it would be sooner rather than later, and  _ definitely _ not toward him.

 

Eventually, Sam fell asleep with his phone clutched in his hand.

 

\--

 

It was nearly one in the afternoon when Sam finally woke up. His first thoughts were that he was late for school, well, a little more than late. Quickly, he stood up, then had to grab the wall so he didn’t fall when his legs could barely hold him up. He was dizzy and his vision swam as a dull pain throbbed through his body, his head hurting a little less than it had last night.

 

“Fuck,” he murmured, sitting down on his bed and grabbed his phone, completely regretting not going to the hospital. They probably would have given him something for his head, maybe even done a CT scan, but then he would have had to explain what happened, and he couldn’t do that. It would be domestic violence, the police would get involved, Lucifer would have a warrant out for his arrest. Sam couldn’t let that happen, not while Lucifer was in the mental state he was.

 

Sam checked his messages. A few more from Dean, one from Cas, and an email from his coach about soccer practice. As he answered Dean and Cas his phone buzzed, a new text from Lucifer. He opened it quickly and read it.

 

‘I’m sorry’ was all he sent.

 

‘I know, I am, too’ Sam sent back, hoping for a reply that didn’t come. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and tried to stand up again, taking it slow. After a few minutes Sam made it to the top of the stairs. Surprisingly it wasn’t too hard for him to make it down the stairs, though his whole body hurt with each step.

 

Dean wasn’t home and Sam wasn’t sure if he’d come home. The Impala was gone and Dean hadn’t texted that he would be back any time soon, so Sam decided to make breakfast. Cereal would be light enough considering that he wasn’t sure how sick he would get after being thrown against a wall. Sam noticed that, too. The blood on the floor had been cleaned up and the wall had been scrubbed, leaving behind the faint smell of bleach. Dean must have come home during the night, at least for a little while.

 

He ate slowly as he watched his phone on the table in front of him. Sam didn’t expect Lucifer to text back anytime soon, or at all for that matter, and he was surprised Lucifer had even texted to say he was sorry. In the short time Sam had known the other, he’d come to learn that Lucifer was not someone who apologized. The only time Sam had heard him say ‘I’m sorry’ out loud was when he’d nipped Sam’s bottom lip a little too hard and made it bleed. Even then Lucifer hadn’t seemed too sincere in his apology.

 

Sam sighed when he finished his cereal, washing out his bowl. He had the day off and nothing to occupy his racing mind. Of course he wished he was at school, he even wished he could be in Miss Master’s class, listening to her talk about the varsity volleyball team she coached instead of ancient civilizations. Hell, he’d rather even be in English, trying not to listen to Gabriel try desperately to get Kali to go with him to the movies on Friday. If Sam was in Kali’s place he would have given in just to get Gabriel to shut up.

 

The only thing he could come up with was to watch TV. All that was on were mindless reality shows and infomercials, which Sam wanted no part of. He stopped on the Discovery channel, something about snakes. Sam wasn’t afraid of snakes, in fact he’d asked Dean if he could get one for his twelfth birthday to which Dean had quickly said no. But, Sam knew, Lucifer was afraid of snakes. Not the big pythons and anacondas, but the smaller ones like cobras and coral snakes. Sam had made fun of him for a few minutes until Lucifer pinned him to the couch and kissed him breathless.

 

Sam smiled softly as he remembered the way Lucifer had handled him that day. It was their first real make out session, all slow tongues and soft lips, Lucifer’s hands under Sam’s shirt while he’d wrapped his arms around the older boy’s neck. He’d give anything to go back to that day and forget all the shit that had happened over the last two days.

 

He was pulled out of his memories by the sound of the Impala’s engine as Dean pulled into the driveway. Sam kept his attention on the TV when the front door opened and closed a little too roughly for his liking. Silently, Dean kicked his shoes off and went to the fridge, grabbing a beer and sat on the other end of the couch from Sam. They didn’t speak, just watched as a man wearing a cowboy hat that had seen better days tried to get a net over a snake.

 

“You talk to him?” Dean asked after a few moments. Sam swallowed and didn’t look at his brother.

 

“He texted me saying he was sorry and I told him I was, too. He hasn’t texted back.” Sam checked his phone as he answered, no new messages.

 

“I didn’t see his car at school,” Dean said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “I asked some people, they said they hadn’t heard from him, but they’d tell me if he talked to them... I swung by his house... His dad answered the door but I could hear his mom crying...”

 

Sam tensed up, chancing a look at Dean and wished he hadn’t. Dean looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and his stubble grown out a little. He looked drained.

 

“What did his dad say?” Sam asked quietly. Lucifer had an older brother and younger sister. He silently hoped something had come up with one of them, though he knew it was wrong to think that.

 

“I asked if Lucifer was home and said that I was his partner for a school project... His dad said he didn’t know where he was and that if I saw him I had full permission to kick his ass.” Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know where he is and we have a next to nothing chance of finding him. I think we should just wait until he comes around, until he’s ready to talk.”

 

Sam sighed quietly and nodded, biting his lip. He turned his phone over in his hand as he stared blankly at the TV screen, not paying attention.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll wait.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So this chapter is kinda short, at least I edited it faster than the others. Hopefully this cliffhanger will be just as good as the last one lol. Comments and likes are love!

Sam lied to Dean almost everyday. Usually it was small things like saying he was okay or that yes, he’d finished his lunch, and he very rarely felt bad about telling these lies. Now, Sam wished this one had been as easy as the other white lies he’d told.

 

It was late, edging on one in the morning and Sam was on the other side of town. He’d told Dean that he was going over to Castiel’s house after school and that Cas’ dad would give him a ride to school on Thursday. That had all been a lie. Sam had packed a bag with a blanket, some money, a change of clothes, and a sweatshirt. He said goodbye to Dean, telling him he could walk the few blocks to Castiel’s house, when in reality Sam walked across town to Lucifer’s house.

 

Sam and Dean were lucky enough that John found a house in a part of town that wasn’t too bad. A few houses in their neighborhood had seen better days, but that was the extent of it. It had come as a shock when Sam made it to the street Lucifer lived on. He passed three boarded up houses, the next house after those having a German Shepherd chained to the porch, until he reached Lucifer’s house. It was a little better, but Sam frowned when he saw the dead grass, cringing a little as one of the bricks in the steps shifted when he stepped on it.

 

Lucifer’s younger sister Ruby opened the door when Sam knocked.

 

“What?” she nearly spat.

 

“Oh, uh, I was just wondering if Lucifer was, um, here,” Sam said lamely, biting his lip. Ruby looked him up and down and he could tell she was trying not to smirk. She was a year older than Sam and had with long brown hair and pretty eyes, but looked nothing like Lucifer. This time she did smirk, resting her hand on her hip.

 

“Why? Wait, are you his new little bitch?” Ruby asked, laughing quietly, then nodded. “You must be Sam... He was freaking out the last time I saw him, saying he hurt Sam and that he could never talk to him again.”

 

“What?” Sam whispered, staring at her. “Where is he? Did he say he was going somewhere?”

 

“Wow, you are so desperate for attention, aren’t you?” Ruby ran her eyes over Sam’s body and sighed. “Look, I don’t know where his is, but I know he didn’t leave the city or something. He’s insane but he’s not that crazy, so you’ll be able to find him if you ask the right people.”

 

Sam was quiet as he took in what Ruby was saying, hanging on her every word, nodding when she was done.

 

“Wh-who do I ask?” he questioned.

 

“Like I know,” Ruby laughed. “I mean, you could go down two streets and ask the hooker if he’s seen him, but that’s my best guess, or, you know, ask the cops.” Sam gave her a confused expression, brows knitted together. He could ask the hooker, but he wouldn’t go to the cops.

 

“Are your parents going to the cops if he doesn’t come back?”

 

Ruby’s eyes widened at that, her fist tightening where she held the door handle.

 

“Lucifer’s eighteen,” she growled, eyes dark. “He can do what he wants, we don’t care. If he wants to run away my parents’ll let him. Now get out of here.”

 

“What? They can’t just let him leave, he’s not-”

 

“Get out!” Ruby snapped, taking a step toward him. “Get out of here! Don’t fucking come back!”

 

Sam gasped and his eyes went wide, taking a step back. He nodded once and turned away, almost running down the steps as he heard the door slam behind him. The driveway was empty when Sam walked in the opposite direction of where he’d come from, pulling his jacket tight around himself. It was cold out, though the days had been getting warmer. Taking Ruby’s advice, Sam walked down two streets, finding a man who couldn’t have been older than Dean.

 

“Uh, hi,” Sam murmured, biting his lip when he approached the man. He ran his eyes slowly over Sam’s , a smile pulling the corners of his lips up, and Sam swore he felt himself shiver.

 

“Hey,” he said, leaned against a light post. “You look a little young to be talking to me... You know where you are, right?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Sam said and swallowed nervously. The man didn’t scare him and he wasn’t threatening, but Sam didn’t really want to be seen talking to someone who earned money illegally. “I, uh, w-was just wondering if you’d seen someone, or know where I c-could find him.”

 

The man shrugged, looking down and then back up at Sam. He pushed off the light post and took a step so he was only about a foot away from Sam.

 

“Depends who you’re looking for,” he said, smirking. “I know a lot of people.”

 

“Oh, um, yeah... Uh, Lucifer Novak. I haven’t seen him for a few days.”

 

“Oh...” The man frowned as he looked at Sam. “I saw him earlier today, I said hi but he didn’t seem too keen on talking to anyone but a bottle of whiskey. Like, seriously, I wouldn’t waste my time on him. He seemed too drunk to function.”

 

Sam’s heart fell. He opened his mouth and shook his head.

 

“Where did you see him?” he asked quietly, trying to blink back tears.

 

“Down on third, across from the 7/11. I don’t know if he’s still there. Sorry, kid.”

 

Sam only nodded, sniffling and wiped at his eyes.

 

“Uh, th-thank you,” he murmured before turning away to walk down the street, feeling the man’s eyes on his back as he went. He felt sick, almost tasting the bile in his throat. It wasn’t like Lucifer to act that way, to drink himself away. Sam had seen him angry, even afraid, but he’d never seen him act in a way that would lead him to drink until he was out of it. He sighed.

 

Nearly every streetlight flickered as Sam walked under it on his way to... Anywhere but where he was. It was edging on three in the morning when he found himself in a middle class looking neighborhood, the sidewalk evening out and chain link fences fading away. A few porch lights were on and that warmed something inside of Sam, that part of him that had always been there but had never been acknowledged with his brother and father, and it wasn’t until he’d met Lucifer that he was sure that feeling in his chest wasn’t just jealousy. It was longing and homesickness and abandon. All that washed away when Lucifer held him, when he thought about having a real home.

 

He stopped abruptly, a soft noise behind him pulling his thoughts back to the real world. It sounded like someone walking slowly, almost like they were dragging their feet, and he turned around slowly. Before he could even turn half way he heard a soft voice.

 

“Sam?” it whispered, a shiver running down Sam’s spine. He turned around fully and froze, his eyes wide, mouth gone dry as he stared at Lucifer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! So the other day I replied to some comments, so go check that out if you haven't. If I didn't reply to your comment, it was probably because the comment was chapter specific, or it has been answered in later chapters. But trust me, even if I did't reply to yours, I appreciate it so much, and I always read every comment! Thank you guys so much for reading this fic and leaving love for it. Comments and likes are love!  
> Also! There is referenced drug use in this chapter, as well as alcohol abuse!

Neither of them moved as nearly a minute passed.

 

Sam couldn’t believe it. It was Lucifer,  _ his _ Lucifer. The person he’d been looking for all night, who he’d missed for days, the one and only person who actually made Sam feel anything other than anger and fear and worry. A smile pulled at the corners of Sam’s mouth.

 

Lucifer, on the other hand, could barely think anything past,  _ I fucked up, I shouldn’t be here. Turn around, walk away, you fucking loser. He hates you. _ There was no way he was coherent enough to realize it was just the drugs pumping through his veins. A mix of heroin and cocaine over the couple days he’d been gone, and the three pills of ecstasy he’d taken less than twenty minutes ago throbbed through his body with every beat of his heart, adrenaline adding to the concoction as Lucifer’s brain finally shouted,  _ Sam! _ over and over again. The bottle of whiskey in his hand that he was slowly emptying probably didn’t help. Even he was surprised that he wasn’t dead.

 

“Jesus,” Lucifer heard Sam murmur, noticing that he was now only a few feet in front of him. “What the hell happened to you? What... What’s that smell?” Sam unconsciously took a small step back when he smelled a heady odor through the stench of alcohol coming from Lucifer.

 

“I...” Lucifer could barely process what Sam was saying, he was talking too fast, and the streetlights were so damn bright. “You’re fine? That’s...” He swallowed, shifting on his feet a little, looking down. “Good.”

 

Sam frowned deeply as he saw Lucifer’s hands shaking.

 

“What the hell happened?” he asked, unsure himself if he meant right now, or about what Lucifer had done to him before he left. About how he’d hurt Sam. Lucifer, in turn, stared at him blankly, pupils dilated.

 

“Sam,” he whispered, shivering in the night air.

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sam said, slowly growing annoyed and a little angry with Lucifer. “Come on, we have to get you home, Luce. It’s fucking freezing out here.” Holding out his hand, Sam watched him, and he had to admit that he was a little scared. Obviously Lucifer was drunk, and probably high. Sam knew that was a toxic mix. Hesitantly, Lucifer took his hand, his own shaking, the corners of his mouth turning up when he felt Sam’s skin.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the warmth feeling nice against his fingers that had been out in the cold too long. “Your house?” His throat was raw from the cool night air and the burn of alcohol he’d had too much of.

 

“Um...” Sam paused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, a friend’s house, Lucifer. I can’t bring you home or Dean will kill you, and I doubt your parents want anything to do with you...”

 

Lucifer frowned deeply when Sam mentioned his parents, some unconscious part of his numbed mind telling him that Sam had somehow talked to his parents, or that he’d gone to the cops who had gone to his parents.

 

“You told ‘em?” Lucifer whispered as his hand tightened slightly around Sam’s. Barely hearing the words, Sam turned around and looked at Lucifer with a confused stare.

 

“Who?”

 

“Parents... Cops...” Lucifer shivered when he said the second word, knowing that was far worse than if his parents ever found out what he was doing or where he was.

 

Sam didn’t know how to react to the statement. He didn’t know if he should have scoffed at the older boy for thinking that he’d go to the cops, or to get mad at him for thinking that, so he kept on staring blankly.

 

“No, Luce, I didn’t go to the cops. I didn’t talk to your parents either,” Sam said. For a moment he chewed on his bottom lip. “I talked to Ruby, though. That was actually kind of helpful, even if she did yell at me.” He glanced up at Lucifer, not realizing that his eyes had fallen to their joined hands. Lucifer stayed quiet and his face was blank when Sam looked at him.

 

They were both silent for a few minutes that seemed far too long for Sam, and not long enough for Lucifer. His head was throbbing as he tried to piece together the right words to ask Sam.

 

“Come on,” Sam said before Lucifer could even open his mouth. It took Lucifer a few tries to get his feet to move once Sam started to pull him by the hand, walking down the sidewalk toward his neighborhood.

 

“Ya said not... Your house,” Lucifer slurred, feet scuffing along the pavement as he tried to focus on walking without tripping.

 

“We’re not,” Sam answered and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts before he found the right one and hit the call button.

 

\--

 

Cas groaned as his phone rang, but he rolled over in bed and squinted at the caller ID.

 

“This better be good, Sam,” he grumbled and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

 

“It’s not exactly what I call good,” Sam said, pulling Lucifer along behind him. “I’m gonna be at your house in about fifteen minutes, and I need water and a bed, and probably a bucket.”

 

Confusion spread over Castiel’s face as he listened to Sam, wondering what he’d gotten up to that he needed those things.

 

“Well, I think I need to ask why,” he said and stood up, walking to the stairs. He could almost hear Sam hesitate through the phone.

 

“You remember Lucifer, right?” Sam asked.

 

“Yeah, I guess, why?”

 

“Well... Shit went down and now he’s drunk and high, and I don’t know how he’s not dead. He just needs a place to stay for tonight.”

 

“Why can’t you take him to your house?”

 

“Because I’m certain Dean would flat out kill him, I’m not even joking.”

 

Cas paused and licked his lips, walking down to his kitchen. While he didn’t know Lucifer well enough to believe if he would really get drunk or high, he trusted Sam enough to know that this was serious and not some elaborate prank. He went to the fridge and got out two water bottles.

 

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes,” Cas said.

 

“Thank you so much, Cas, I promise it’s only for tonight,” Sam said, smiling a little.

 

“Sure,” Cas mumbled before hanging up and going to find a bucket.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there everyone! It's kinda late here, almost 9:30, so is this chapter kinda late? Maybe? I dunno. Hope you like it! Oh, and a new Denny fic should be posted within the next week. Comments and likes are love!

Sam did his best to hold Lucifer up as they stumbled down the, thankfully, empty sidewalk. Lucifer dragged his feet, making scuffling noises on the pavement, and it set Sam’s teeth on edge. He was pissed at himself just as much as he was at Lucifer. There had been such a large gap in time from when Lucifer left to when Sam finally went looking for him, and he could only imagine what had happened in that time. He knew how reckless Lucifer could get.

 

After a few moments, Sam was pulled out of his thoughts by a slurred, obviously drunk voice above him.

 

“What?” Sam asked.

 

“I said...,” Lucifer breathed, and Sam swore he could smell every drop of alcohol Lucifer had ingested. “I... I can’t go h-home... To my house...”

 

“I know, we’re not going to your house, we’re going to Castiel’s.”

 

“Wh... Who?”

 

“Castiel, Cas,” Sam said. “He’s my friend.”

 

“Oh...”

 

Sam chewed on his bottom lip as they trudged on, looking up at Lucifer every so often, making sure he wasn’t about to pass out or vomit.

 

Soon enough they reached the street that Cas lived on, and Sam let out a relieved sigh when he didn’t see the usual Toyota in the driveway. Sam sat Lucifer down on the bottom step, then ran up and knocked on the door before he went back down and helped Lucifer up the stairs. They only had to wait a moment before Cas opened the door.

 

“Oh, god,” he said when he saw Lucifer. In the light, Sam could see that the older boy’s skin was sickly pale, but his cheeks and nose were red from the cold. His hands shook and his eyes looked sunken back, and Sam knew he hadn’t showered since he left, which only added to the smell. Cas swallowed hard before he reluctantly took a step back to let the two of them in. He looked around before he shut the door.

 

Slowly, Sam carried Lucifer to the bathroom off of the kitchen, supporting him as he dragged his feet. He sat him down on the edge of the tub and made sure he was balanced before he turned on the water.

 

“Cas? You got that bucket?!” he called, and he could have sworn that Lucifer’s face was turning green as he saw the older boy look around for a place to vomit.

 

Lucifer stood, only to fall to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving the lid up before he puked.

 

“Oh, shit,” Sam murmured, pulling his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose, gagging at the smell. He quickly stood up and grabbed the air freshener from above the toilet, spraying as much as he could as fast as he could.

 

“I got the bu-” Cas stopped short when the smell hit him. It took everything in him not to throw up as well, then said quickly, “Sam, c-can I talk to you in the hallway?”

 

Sam nodded and quickly set the air freshener down, stepping into the hallway and closed the door behind him, then took a deep breath of fresh air.

 

“Cas, I am so sorry about that,” he said, leaning back against the door. “I knew he would probably throw up, but that was worse than-”

 

“I’m not upset, Sam,” Castiel cut in. “Actually, I find your dedication quite admirable. If I had found Lucifer in this condition, if I had found  _ anyone _ in this condition, partner or not, I would have sent them home to wait it out themselves. That may be a crude thing to say, but I hope that you understand where I am coming from.”

 

“Yeah, yes, I totally understand,” he said, cringing when he heard Lucifer hurl again. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Cas, really. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t bring him here. Dean’s been pissed since...  _ It _ happened, and he’s just been getting angrier every day.”

 

Castiel nodded slowly, rolling the bucket in his hands a little.

 

“When do you plan on telling your brother that you have found Lucifer?”

 

Sam swallowed hard and looked away. Telling Dean was the last thing he wanted to think about, but he knew it had to happen sooner or later. He knew that sooner would be better, but first he had to get Lucifer back to normal, or as close as he could get him.

 

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “I have to figure all of this out with Lucifer first, okay? I need him coherent enough to tell me what’s going on with him so we can work through all of this.” He swallowed, then opened the door again, grimacing at the smell.

 

Lucifer had his back pressed against the wall, his hands shaking a little as his eyes slowly trailed up Sam’s form, stopping when he saw Sam’s face.

 

“I... I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’ mean... ta throw ‘p.” His words were slurred and slow. Slowly and carefully, he pulled himself up off of the floor, gripping the edge of the counter as he took dragging steps toward Sam. “‘M tired... So tired, Sam...”

 

“I need you to stay awake,” Sam said, stepping closer. “This is going to be really, really hard, but please, I need you to trust me and do everything that I say. Okay?”

 

Lucifer nodded a little, looking down at Sam’s hands.

 

“Sam,” Cas murmured, sounding more like a hiss. “Can I talk to you? In  _ private _ ?”

 

Sam looked over at Castiel, then swallowed as he walked toward him.

 

“Sam, I know that Lucifer is your partner, and I know that you truly care for him, I can see that, but do you even know what you’re doing? He is going to go through withdrawal. He has been intoxicated and high for who knows how long, and you need to realize that this process is not going to be easy. I do not know what exactly is going to happen, but he may become violent.” He paused for a moment. “I will help you with this as much as I can, but I do not want my house ruined in the process.”

 

Sam nodded, then ran his hand through his hair. Of course he didn’t know what he was doing, but he had to try something. He couldn’t leave Lucifer like this. There was no way that he could bring the older boy home to Dean in the state that he was, and he would die before he sent Lucifer to his own house.

 

“I know this is going to be hard, Cas, but I have to try something, we both do,” Sam said, then sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes. “Lucifer is in a lot of pain, and I’m going to do my best to help him through this. Whether that means I have to sit up all night with him in the bathroom, or if I make sure that he eats before he passes out, I’m going to do that.”

 

“You probably shouldn’t feed him just yet,” Castiel said, grimacing a bit at what he could still smell of the vomit. “If he does pass out, he may choke on his own vomit, and I know that neither of us want that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, right.” Sam nodded, tucking some hair behind his ear, turning back to look at Lucifer for a second, then looked at Cas again. “I’ll try and get him to drink some water. Oh, do you have Gatorade or anything?”

 

“Yes, I believe we have a few sports drinks.”

 

Sam nodded, then followed Castiel to the kitchen. He grabbed a few bottles of water while Cas got the Gatorade. They made their way back to the bathroom, and Cas didn’t hesitate before he set the bottles on the ground and quickly walked away.

 

Quietly, Sam sighed as he stood just outside of the bathroom, watching as Lucifer dry heaved into the toilet. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
